Fate's Crossing
by jedi kate
Summary: A black hole, a past relived and choices presented to Obi-Wan after the events in TPM.


Category: Story, Angst AU (sort of)  
Rating: PG-13  
Timeline: Between Eps I and II  
Spoilers: Big ones for Episode I  
Disclaimer: These characters are the property of George Lucas.  
No copyright infringement is intended.  
Archive: Anywhere.  
Summary: A black hole, a past revisited and choices presented  
to Obi-Wan Kenobi after the events in TPM.  
Feedback: Please, I'd love to hear your thoughts  
**Email: [jedikkate@yahoo.com][1]**

**FATE'S CROSSING by [Jedi Kate][1]**

**I**.

In the entire galaxy there was nothing as beautiful, or as  
dangerous, as a collapsed star. Obi-Wan Kenobi stared at the  
purple swirls of gas and barely fleeing light, making sure his  
headstrong apprentice kept his eyes on the navicomputer, not on  
the sight portal. 

A dying star was beautiful to look at but death to touch,  
even from a very great distance. The gravitational pull it  
exerted was enough to warp the universe around it, up to light  
years away, and Obi-Wan wanted nothing to do with its lovely,  
but fatal kiss.

"There's a slight tug on the gravitrol but not enough to worry  
about Master." Anakin Skywalker adjusted a minute reading. "I'd  
say we can get a bit closer."

"I'd feel better if we kept as far away as possible. I've heard  
there are wormholes surrounding this particular star as far away  
as the Middle Rim. Are the shields holding?" Obi-Wan put a  
firm hand on the young man's shoulder as the ship shuddered  
within the dying star's immense gravitational pull.

"Holding and well." Anakin grinned. "Don't you worry."

Obi-Wan returned the smile, a bit wistfully. His padawan was no  
longer a little boy, he was eighteen now, growing closer to his  
Trials every day. Strong in the Living Force, Anakin was a  
brilliant student as well as Obi-Wan's pride and joy, as  
difficult as it had been for them at first. 

Obi-Wan hadn't wanted the responsibility of any padawan, let  
alone the one his master had proclaimed as The Chosen One, but a  
single dying breath had changed that, and so much else, forever. 

//Train the boy. Promise me my Obi-Wan, you will train the  
boy.//

//Yes, Master.//

Yes, Master ... what strange words to use in the sealing of two  
fates, Obi-Wan thought sadly. In the first months following  
Anakin's apprenticeship, Obi-Wan had mentally retracted his  
promise to Qui-Gon a thousand times, with a bitterness that  
bordered on rage, furiously pounding his pillow with frustration  
and sorrow night after night. 

How cruel Qui-Gon had been to force Obi-Wan into that promise,  
he wasn't ready, he didn't even _like_ the boy, he never got to  
enjoy his own freedom as a knight and by the Force, how unfair  
it all was.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Obi-Wan grew used to the idea, even  
began to enjoy his role as mentor on occasion. Grew to love his  
apprentice with the carefree affection of an older brother, but  
always wondered what his life would have been like if the Sith's  
blade had never found his master's heart. Even after nearly ten  
years as Anakin's master, he still wished he could know what the  
other path might have held in store for him, if anything at all.

A series of loud warning beeps interrupted Obi-Wan's reverie. 

"Master ... I think we're losing power." Anakin sounded calm,  
but Obi-Wan could hear the fear hidden beneath his quiet words.

"Do we have enough to back up and get out of here?" Obi-Wan  
took the navigator's seat and began to study the readouts. 

"I don't think so," replied Anakin hoarsely. His fingers began  
to fly over the controls. "We might be able to ..."

Suddenly, an overwhelming flash of light filled the cabin with  
white brilliance and Obi-Wan instinctively threw his hands up  
over his eyes to shield them from the blinding glare. The ship  
took a spinning dive and Obi-Wan's stomach lurched toward his  
throat as he reached out for Anakin, hoping to end his life  
protecting his padawan if at all possible.

For they were both going to die, of this much Obi-Wan was  
certain.

Pressure then, tearing at his head, blinding him completely and  
the light disappeared as suddenly as it came, leaving behind  
nothing but a cool, enveloping darkness. Obi-Wan could still  
hear echoes of familiar voices sound softly through his mind:  
his padawan calling his name, frantic and terrified, his mother  
calling him to bed, sweet and soothing, Master Yoda chiding him  
for being afraid, his dear master Qui-Gon, asking him to wake  
up, his kind, lilting voice calm and knowing.

"Obi-Wan." A hand then, at his shoulder, squeezing gently.  
"Obi-Wan, awake now."

Obi-Wan tried to speak but the words refused to come. He  
coughed and took a short, wheezing breath as two strong arms  
lifted him from the cold floor and cradled him. Fingers tapped  
softly against his cheek and Obi-Wan shook his head, still  
struggling for air.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan rasped, wondering why death was so full of  
pain as opposed to the eternal peace he'd heard so much about.  
"Anakin ... what happened?" He opened his eyes, expecting to  
see nothing but darkness, but to his surprise he could see an  
outline of a person quickly coming into focus.

"Shhhh ... be quiet now, the healers are on their way. Don't  
waste your energy speaking." 

Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to clear his rattled thoughts.  
He must be dreaming or hallucinating, he thought wildly as the  
arms holding him tightened. The voice he heard, it wasn't  
Anakin's, it was another one, a dear one, but impossible ... it  
just wasn't ....

"Master?" he croaked, his eyes stinging as a familiar, and  
beloved, face came into sharp focus.

"Yes, padawan." Qui-Gon smiled gently at him. "I'm here, it's  
over, all over. Now hush and let's wait for her Highness's  
medics to get here. If I'm not mistaken from the cheers  
outside, I'd say Naboo's battle has been handily won."

"Naboo," Obi-Wan stuttered. He struggled to sit up, but Qui-  
Gon's embrace was as tight as a steel trap. "Naboo. Oh, but  
... "

"Yes, Naboo." Qui-Gon nodded, obviously concerned. "Don't you  
remember where you are, padawan?"

Obi-Wan shook his head frantically. "Yes ... no, I mean, yes I  
remember, but I don't belong here ... and you .... you don't  
belong here either." He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying  
to quell the terror that was rising in his heart. 

A floundering ship sucked into the dying star ... a black hole  
from which time itself might not be able to escape from. Could  
it be possible? Could he have fallen into such a astral  
disaster and survived, only to be flung into a universe where  
the past was changed, irrevocably so? And if so, what of his  
padawan? Was he here as well, or was he ...

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan broke free of Qui-Gon's embrace and looked  
around wildly. "Anakin!"

Qui-Gon stared at him, paling. "Obi-Wan ..."

"No, no ... you don't understand." Obi-Wan tried to stand, but  
he discovered he was too weak to even make it to his knees.  
"This is wrong, something has happened ... I'm not supposed to  
be here."

Qui-Gon regarded him carefully for a long moment, his expression  
sorrowful. "I think you should rest now." Force-strong voice,  
deep and irresistible, and an iron grip clasped Obi-Wan's  
shoulder. "Sleep, padawan, sleep."

Obi-Wan fought against the Force-enhanced command but it was  
too strong. A moment later he found himself floating once more,  
the voices echoing within his ears, but this time Anakin's was  
nowhere to be heard. The darkness fell then, and sleep  
enveloped him in a blanket of night.

**II**.

When Obi-Wan awoke, he didn't open his eyes immediately.  
Instead, he took deep breaths, and listened carefully, feeling  
with his fingertips around the edges of his pallet. The sheets  
were cool and crisp and nothing could be heard except for the  
soft, steady beeping of a computer or 'droid. 

A dream, he thought hazily, swallowing hard. He'd just had a  
very vivid, very strange dream. Everything was well, he was  
alive, and if that was so, he was quite sure that his padawan  
must have survived too. When he looked at his surroundings, he  
would find a medical bay, simple and plain and there would be no  
more of this nonsense. 

Trembling, Obi-Wan opened his eyes, and peered around fearfully. 

"There you are." Qui-Gon's face appeared again, now deeply  
etched with concern and Obi-Wan nearly cried out at the sight.  
"Shhhh ... please, padawan. Be calm. I beseech you ..."

"No." Obi-Wan shut his eyes tightly, the tears threatening.  
"No, no, no. This cannot be."

"I know it was hard, I was as surprised as you by the Sith, but  
please, try to regain your composure, if only for me." 

Qui-Gon's hand, soft against his temple, as soothing as it had always   
been, but Obi-Wan shuddered beneath its touch. He'd heard the  
stories, the rumors of spacers returning from their own pasts,  
shocked and maddened by the ghosts of years long gone, but he'd  
never expected to actually witness such a thing. It was enough  
to drive anyone insane, especially since ...

"Where is Anakin?" he stammered. "Is ... is he here?"

A pause. "I think perhaps you should rest more, my padawan.  
Yes ... rest is what you need."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. "Please. Tell me where he is," he  
said thickly, his entire body numb with shock. "Is he still in  
the hanger?"

Slowly, Qui-Gon shook his head. "No. He disobeyed me and took  
control of a fighter. I think it might have been an accident,  
but he took off and joined the attack on the Trade Federation  
ship."

"Yes," replied Obi-Wan, the dread creeping into his heart. "And  
he destroyed it, didn't he?"

"Yes." Qui-Gon looked down and folded his hands carefully  
across his lap. "Bravely, as a Jedi might have. Unfortunately,  
he has not returned. I ..." Qui-Gon shut his eyes tightly and  
to Obi-Wan's horror a tear rolled down one cheek. "I'm very  
ashamed, my padawan. He was but a child and I promised his  
mother I would look after him. But now ... now ..."

"He's not dead." Obi-Wan struggled into a sitting position, his  
heart pounding. "No, I won't allow him to be dead. That's not  
the way it's supposed to be, it's supposed to be ... " His  
voice trailed away and he stared at Qui-Gon, the terrible  
reality becoming clear. 

Something ... something had happened, had gone terribly wrong.  
A shift in time, a moment of crossing and another life was lost  
instead of Qui-Gon's. Anakin was lost now, and Obi-Wan trembled  
at the thought of his bright, beloved young student gone  
forever, his short life never having been lived at all. 

He lay back down and tried to bring some order to his thoughts.  
It was impossible to know the mechanics of a possible escape,  
but those spacers _had_ returned from these trips intact, more  
or less. If a way could be found, then perhaps not all was  
lost. But if a way _couldn't_ be ...

And if so, what of Qui-Gon? What would happen to him then?

Qui-Gon gently took his hand. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. Surprised  
as well. I didn't know you liked Ani this much. I thought it  
quite the opposite in fact."

Guilt flooded Obi-Wan then, the memory of his initial anger and  
dislike coming back with a vengeance. "I ... I ... think I need  
some rest, master. I have to gather myself, I'm still a bit  
lost," he stuttered.

"Of course," replied Qui-Gon gently. "I'll be attending to Her  
Highness's court, and awaiting the arrival of Master Windu and  
Yoda. I think they'll be very pleased when they hear of your  
courage and strength in the face of that dark creature."  
Another gentle touch. "We might even be having a certain  
ceremony, unless I'm not very much mistaken. But rest now, my  
Obi-Wan. Rest."

"Yes, Master," he murmured in reply, as he remembered the last  
time he'd said those words and sealed two different fates. His   
own and his padawan's, but now ... all that was lost. Instead,  
he'd gained what he'd always thought he'd wanted ... his beloved  
master alive and himself free to explore his knighthood as he  
pleased. He'd dreamt of such a life a thousand times over, but  
why did his heart ache so? 

Supposedly, this was what he'd always wanted ... but now that he  
had it ...

What was he going to do?

  
**III**.

A restless night followed, filled with terrifying dreams for  
Obi-Wan. Dreams of Anakin reaching for him, arms outstretched,  
screaming his name. Obi-Wan awoke with a start, only to return  
to a slumber that was more horror than rest. The sun rose over  
Theed, but it brought no warmth as Obi-Wan shivered helplessly  
and pulled the thermal wrap high around his shoulders, trying to  
alleviate the chill. 

He had to gather himself and quickly, he swore silently, or any  
chance of retrieving Anakin would be lost forever. Shakily, he  
rose, pushed the covers away and swung his legs over the side of  
the pallet. Rubbed his eyes and looked around, marveling at the  
memories that came flooding back.

Memories of sitting in this very medi-unit, numbly watching  
Naboo physicians work futilely on his dead master, his long  
silver hair askew and stained with blood, knowing their work was  
all for naught. Sitting here long after they'd taken the body  
away, staring at the sterile walls, wondering what exactly was  
he going to do now that his world had shattered to a complete  
stop.

The familiar ache flooded Obi-Wan again, but he violently shook  
it off. There was no time for this pointless wandering, he had  
to escape this warp. 

But how ... that was the question.

Behind him, the medi-unit's door quietly slid open and Masters  
Windu and Yoda entered. Obi-Wan reeled at the sight, so similar  
to nearly a decade before, but this time ... this time both  
Council members were smiling broadly, the heavy sorrow  
of their past entrance nowhere to be seen. 

Yoda tapped up to Obi-Wan, gimmer stick in hand. He beamed   
at him, his long ears tipping up, eyes sparkling. A small  
clawed hand patted Obi-Wan's knee. "Done well you have." 

Obi-Wan stared at him, still cold with shock. "Thank you,  
master," he rasped.

Mace Windu regarded him closely. "Qui-Gon told us you were a  
bit shaken after the battle. I hope you are recovered." Deep  
voice, filled with concern. "If not, we can call to Corusccant  
for healers ...."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I'm ... fine. More or less. My  
memory is just a bit rattled. I ... I don't remember the  
details of this particular battle that clearly." Truthfully  
enough, and Obi-Wan hoped they wouldn't guess at the true nature  
of his dilemma.

A small hand touched his and Yoda's dark eyes studied Obi-Wan,  
as if reading his thoughts. "Forgotten have you?" the Jedi  
master mused. "Surprised I am, for such a battle is not easily  
lost to the memory. Perhaps wish to remember, you do not."

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan agreed hoarsely. "It's just such a ...  
surprise to be here, that's all." He hesitated. "I could have  
sworn we were losing that fight."

"That's the strange part. You _were_ losing, according to Qui-  
Gon," Windu replied slowly. "You were separated by cycled laser  
walls after the Sith had divided you. Qui-Gon was left alone,  
and weakening. But, on what he thought was his final rally, you  
appeared outside the walls and with one stroke, made short work  
of the Sith from behind." Narrow eyes regarded Obi-Wan. "In  
truth, we're very curious as to this, especially about getting  
through those walls. Do you remember any of this?"

Obi-Wan felt the blood drain from his face. "No," he said,  
averting his gaze. "I remember the battle, being trapped behind  
the walls ... but, no ... nothing after that." Or, nothing  
after that in _this_ universe, Obi-Wan thought with a sharp pang  
of bitterness. In his own universe, the problem was the exact  
opposite: he could not forget the misery that followed in the  
wake of that one fateful battle.

"At this moment, matter it does not. Focus on the present we  
must." Yoda murmured comfortingly. "Much work to be done now,  
a ceremony is to be held. You must be ready for this, Obi-Wan,  
your strength you must gather."

"A ceremony?" Obi-Wan blinked, confused.

Windu smiled, his brown eyes shining. "Of course, padawan. I'd  
say a young man who was so ready for his Trials would have some  
inkling as to when he's passed them, wouldn't you?"

Obi-Wan gaped at both masters. His knighthood ceremony ... of  
course. The last time, after Qui-Gon's death, his knighting was  
a solemn, sad affair, held as an afterthought in the wake of his  
master's passing and preparations for the funeral. Obi-Wan  
hadn't cared much about the traditional celebration, Qui-  
Gon hadn't been there to share it, so what joy could it possibly  
have held for him? It had been done and finished with a single  
sentence muttered by Yoda, followed immediately by a fierce  
argument with the ancient master over Anakin's training.

Not the knighting Obi-Wan had dreamt of his whole life, that was  
for sure.

But this ... Slowly, seeds of longing began to take the edge  
away from Obi-Wan's imperative desire to escape the wormhole.

An actual knighting ceremony, he thought dreamily. _With_ his  
master there to share in the moment, to revel on the completion  
of fifteen years of labor, care and nurturing. Could such an  
opportunity be denied?

"I ... I will be ready," Obi-Wan stammered, the words coming out  
of his mouth almost of their own accord. 

"Good." Yoda beamed at him. "Rest now, see you this evening we  
shall." He gently pulled on Windu's sleeve. "Come, lunch is  
served, I think. Seek it we shall."

"Yes," Windu agreed, and together the Jedi masters left the  
medi-unit, leaving Obi-Wan to contemplate the past, the future  
and what both might still hold. 

Even at another life's expense. 

Obi-Wan sat, silent and shaking. Perhaps it was wiser to bide  
his time here, to try and understand exactly where he was and  
why he was there, instead of frantically running to escape what  
might be a trap from which there was no exit. What if this was  
an unavoidable twist of Fate, he pondered, ignoring the inner  
voice that was frantically admonishing him, telling him to find  
his way back, no matter what. 

He should wait and be patient, he told himself firmly. Yes,  
that was what he should do, even if he had misgivings, what  
could a few more hours do but give him time to understand his  
situation and better help him to make an escape, if one was  
actually possible.

A few more hours, he thought, slowly rising and heading toward  
the 'fresher to clean up and get ready for the ceremony he'd  
always dreamed of, but never had. 

A few more hours ... how much could that hurt?

**IV**.

Night fell quickly and Obi-Wan began to nervously tug on the  
edge of his robe, a habit from childhood he thought he'd broken  
long before. What was he thinking, this was insanity, he swore  
angrily as the minutes ticked by. He had to find a way to  
escape the wormhole, recruiting the Council's help if possible.

Some solution had to be found or else his padawan, the boy he'd  
sworn to protect would be lost, gone forever. 

What sort of Master was he, sitting here in some warped past,  
trying to recapture a life that wasn't meant to be? If only ...

A deep voice broke into his thoughts. "Padawan?"

Swallowing hard, Obi-Wan looked up. "Yes, Master?" How easily  
the words came even after all these years, he thought  
mournfully, his eyes burning. How easy it was to fall into  
this fantasy, this life that _should_ have been, but had not.

Qui-Gon stood before him, his blue eyes filled with pride and  
affection. He gently cupped his student's cheek and tilted his  
chin up. "The Council is in session here in the palace and we  
are called to present to them. Are you ready?" Formally said,  
with the slightest hint of humor lurking behind the solemn  
words. 

Obi-Wan knew his master had never been one to take ceremonies  
_too_ seriously, instead he enjoyed them solely for the pleasure  
they brought the participants. "I am ready," he replied  
formally, suddenly feeling a young boy again, shy and anxious,  
excited and happier than he'd remembered ever being.

"Good." Qui-Gon motioned for him to stand, and Obi-Wan obeyed,  
flushing when his master took a moment to straighten his  
student's cloak and brush a few stray hairs into place, as a  
proud parent might on their child's graduation day. "Hmmm ...  
no holopics, I left the camera inside," Qui-Gon joked lightly.  
"I'm afraid our memories will have to suffice."

"That's more than enough for me," replied Obi-Wan, his throat  
tight. 

"Then come, padawan, follow me one last time, for our journey is  
almost at an end." The formal words again, and Obi-Wan followed  
his master out the medi-unit's door into the palace hallway.  
They walked in silence toward the throne room, and the doors  
swung open at their approach, as if greeting them via the Force.

To Obi-Wan's surprise, at least half the Council was present,  
including masters Koon and Yaddle. They sat in a semi-circle,  
their faces as serene as always, but with a hint of gladness  
lurking just beneath their silent dignity.

Together, master and padawan bowed to each member in turn, and  
Yoda nodded at them, signaling the master to speak.

"Masters," intoned Qui-Gon gravely. "I present to you my  
student, Obi-Wan Kenobi, who has been tutored by me for years,  
ten and five in number. On this, our last mission, he was faced  
with an enemy who challenged him with Darkness itself, forcing  
him to the make the choice between anger and the light." He  
turned to Obi-Wan, his eyes shining. "I am proud to say he  
chose wisely. Therefore, with this Trial successfully  
completed, I present him to you as a candidate for knighthood,  
and vouch for him in my name, with complete faith in his  
worthiness."

"By our own counsel, already considered he has been," Yoda  
replied. "And has been found worthy of the title, and confer  
upon him we do, the status of Knight. Yours he has been to mould  
and teach, well you have done, Qui-Gon. Proud you should be,  
grateful to the Force as well." He turned to the other masters  
present. "In this matter, agreed are we all?"

"Yes," the gathered masters intoned as one. 

Yoda's eyes brightened. He removed a small blade from his belt  
and held it out to Qui-Gon who stepped forward and gracefully  
retrieved it. "Your right this is, Qui-Gon," the ancient master  
said solemnly. "Many years you have worked for this."

Qui-Gon nodded, then motioned for Obi-Wan to kneel. "This is  
our journey, padawan," he said, gently running a finger over the  
long braid of hair that was once again hanging over Obi-Wan's  
shoulder. "Entwined we are, just as these three strands ... a  
master, an apprentice and the Force. This is the physical  
reminder of that bond, now to be parted with, leaving all but  
memories behind as our journey is now ended. Do you accept  
this, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan's throat was so tight, he could barely form the words.  
He closed his eyes tightly and nodded. "I accept this," he   
replied blurrily. 

"Then may the Force be with you, my padawan who is now a  
knight." 

A short tug, followed by a lightness and Obi-Wan had to struggle  
against his tears. He'd cut off his own braid the last time,  
kneeling before the funeral pyre only a few hours before it was  
lit. He'd wrapped the long strand around Qui-Gon's cold hands  
and felt nothing inside but an empty, lonely ache. There had been  
no joy, just a cold rendering of necessary ceremony, putting it  
aside as quickly and quietly as possible. 

He'd forgotten about it soon afterwards, never giving it a second  
thought .. until now. 

And now, this was more happiness than he deserved. 

Obi-Wan looked up through watery eyes and saw Qui-Gon smiling at  
him, motioning for him to rise. The braid was once again  
wrapped in his master's hand but this time held tightly in Qui-  
Gon's very warm, very alive fingers. 

Obi-Wan accepted his former master's outstretched offer of  
assistance and allowed himself to be tugged up into a strong  
embrace, listening to Qui-Gon's heartbeat and feeling the warm  
wash of pride and love over their training bond.

Obi-Wan shut his eyes against the tide of emotion that was  
threatening to drown him, it was too much ... far too much to  
bear. He had to escape, and soon, or else he'd never, ever want  
to leave ... this much was certain. 

"Thank you, Master," he murmured, and gently disentangled  
himself from Qui-Gon's arms. "Thank you." 

Qui-Gon pulled back, fairly glowing with happiness. "No more  
master, Obi-Wan. We're equals now, my dear friend."

His friend. Obi-Wan nodded, feeling lightheaded with both  
misery and joy. "I'm sorry, mas... Qui-Gon. I'm just ...."

"Tired, I know. But not too tired for dinner, I hope?" Kindly,  
full of a casual warmth Obi-Wan never remembered hearing in his  
master's voice, ever. "It's just a short walk, and I've already  
talked to the cooks. There's a rak steak with your name on it."

Obi-Wan nearly laughed aloud. He'd forgotten just how well Qui-  
Gon had known him. "Good," he replied weakly, ignoring the  
warning signals that were thrumming through his nerves. 

Obi-Wan knew he was becoming lost, irretrievably so, and that  
Anakin's life was slipping away from his grasp, minute by  
precious minute. But, now, walking toward the celebration  
dinner of his knighthood, with his beloved friend and master by  
his side, both of them alive and happy, his padawan's pleading  
voice seemed faint and far away. 

What harm could a little while longer do, Obi-Wan thought hazily  
as they walked to the dining hall, the candles and holotorches  
lighting his and Qui-Gon's path? 

Just a little while longer ... just a little, he told himself,  
even as the memory of Anakin's pleas began to fade in the  
hollows of his soul.

Still crying out for help.

  
**V**.

The post-knighting, post-triumph celebration was a noisy affair,  
filled with loud laughter and multiple toasts. Queen Amidala  
sat at the head of a long table, dressed in her battle uniform  
alongside her officers, her handmaidens surrounding her, all of  
them smiling and talking with various members of the Naboo army,  
as well as Boss Nass and assorted Gungan generals. 

The Jedi were seated further down the table, in places of honor,  
with Yoda closest to the Queen. The meal chime rang as course  
after course of rich foods arrived and Obi-Wan felt gleefully  
overwhelmed, even partaking in some mulled eldberry brandywine,  
a drink he normally avoided. 

Seated next to him was Qui-Gon, as carefree and happy as Obi-Wan  
had ever seen him. No words passed between the former master  
and apprentice during the first hours of the meal ... there was  
no need for them. The warm joy felt during the knighting  
ceremony still pulsed between them, a tangible, living emotion,  
more expressive than any speech. 

Obi-Wan had often dreamt of his master's survival, dreamt of his  
knighting, but had never gone further than that, thinking quite  
rightly that he'd tortured himself with enough dreams. There  
was a point where daydreams become obsessions, and besides, he'd  
been far too busy with Anakin's training to let his mind go idle  
for any substantial period of time. 

How strange it was then, he mused, that in stopping his dreams,  
he'd let the best part of what might have been go unwished for.

Sitting next to his master, equal to equal, sharing the best of  
a Jedi's world in a triumphant celebration of life, this was  
better than any dream he could remember. 

Another glass of eldberry poured and Qui-Gon whispered a joke in  
his ear about Jedi and strong spirits, cautioning him not to try  
and slice his meal with his saber, as he'd seen one inebriated  
Jedi unwisely attempt to do many years before.

"Who was that?" Obi-Wan whispered back, the wine warming the  
back of his throat in a not entirely unpleasant manner.

Qui-Gon chortled. "Who do you think?"

Obi-Wan gaped at him. "No ... you??" 

Qui-Gon merely grinned in reply and Obi-Wan nearly snorted the  
wine out of his nose. He coughed and spluttered, then laughed  
again as Qui-Gon patted his back with a warning glance. "And  
that's between you and me, my friend. Just because you're a  
knight now, don't think you can go running around tattling on  
your old master." He arched an eyebrow. "Remember, I still  
have a few good Obi-Wan stories of my own."

"Yes, I'd say you do." Obi-Wan wiped a bit of spilt wine from  
his chin. "But ... honestly, slicing dinner with your  
_saber_?"

Amidala rose and held her hand up, motioning for silence. The  
table immediately quieted at her solemn expression. "Friends,  
thank you for joining us on this great day for Naboo." She  
glanced at Boss Nass, who returned her gaze affectionately.  
"And for Otoh Gunga. Without you, all of you, there wouldn't be  
much to celebrate tonight. But while we revel in our freedom,  
let us remember our friends who cannot be with us this evening,  
remember those among us who made the ultimate sacrifice so that  
Naboo might once again live in freedom and peace. Without these  
brave souls, our world would no longer exist as we know it."  
Her eyes lowered, sadness etched onto her young features. "I'd  
like to especially mention a dear young friend we've lost, who  
bravely gave his life for a world that he'd only begun to know."  
She raised her glass, the tears evident. "To Anakin Skywalker  
... may he live in our hearts forever."

"To Anakin Skywalker," the gathered murmured mournfully, joining  
her toast. 

Obi-Wan's stomach roiled and he clutched the table, his knuckles  
whitening as the bleak reality set in. Anakin ... dead at ten  
years of age, killed aboard the Trade Federation battle station,  
his young life, as well as all his promise of greatness snuffed  
out as one would extinguish a candle. 

The boy's mother, alone now in the universe, no hope of saving  
her lone legacy, her hopes for her son's future ... destroyed.  
His own future, as a Knight and Master, shamed by the death of  
his padawan, a disaster he was allowing to transpire, without  
any attempt at rectifying. 

To say nothing of his promise to the man beside him ... a dying  
promise, his beloved teacher's last breath ... refuted and  
ignored.

Obi-Wan rose shakily, the room suddenly too hot and bright. "I  
need some air," he whispered, weaving unsteadily on his feet.

Qui-Gon rose with him. "Certainly. Here, I'll take a walk with  
you," he murmured, smiling diplomatically at the rest of the  
table. "A bit too much wine, no doubt."

He gently took Obi-Wan by the elbow and steered him past the  
banquet hall doors, toward the southern gardens. "This way,  
watch your step," he said, discreetly leading Obi-Wan toward an  
outdoor bench. "Don't worry, it's only wine, it will pass  
quickly." Sorrowful look. "My apologies, I forgot that you  
don't drink. I shouldn't have poured you that last one."

"No. That's not it." Obi-Wan wearily sank onto the ornate  
stone bench, as the stars shimmered overhead, along with the  
first of Naboo's two moons. He breathed deeply of the cool  
night air, and tried to clear his mind, not daring to look at  
the man who sat beside him, a living reminder of the betrayal of  
his padawan's trust. 

Long moments of silence passed, finally broken by Qui-Gon's  
quiet, even tones. "You're hiding something from me." Qui-Gon  
said as he stared out over the vast palace gardens. "I was  
hoping you'd unburden yourself to me sooner, but no matter, you  
must tell me in your own time, just as you always did." He  
glanced affectionately at his former student. "That was your  
usual way, right from the beginning. Always too stubborn,  
occasionally too polite or unsure to let me know what was on  
your mind. Of course, once you started telling me, getting you  
to stop was another matter ent..."

"Master," Obi-Wan interrupted hoarsely. "This is all wrong. I  
shouldn't be here, I don't belong here. Something ... something  
strange and terrible has happened. Something I'm not quite sure  
how to explain to you."

Qui-Gon paused, obviously taken aback at Obi-Wan's abruptness.  
"Then I'd advise you to start at the beginning. Slowly, with  
care. And I will do my best to understand."

"I don't belong here," Obi-Wan repeated helplessly. "This  
place, these moments ... I've lived through most of this  
already, but differently. This is my past, one that has somehow  
become changed after a trip taken too close to Nebulas Five.  
Where I'm from, it's almost ten years hence, ten years into the  
future from the events in the reactor pit and what is happening  
now is not the past I remember. Somehow it has changed, either  
due to my actions, or perhaps just in my mind, I don't know."  
He stared beseechingly at Qui-Gon. "All I do know is that here,  
in this place, Anakin is dead, and he wasn't, not where I was  
standing in my point in time."

Qui-Gon gaped at him, his ruddy cheeks turning unnaturally pale.  
"Nebulas Five? And Anakin ... alive in some other future?" A  
bright hope filled his eyes. "Alive .... and he's being  
trained? Are you sure?"

Obi-Wan nodded, a familiar heaviness settling over his heart.  
"Yes, as sure as I can be," he said dully. "Almost at the end  
of his training actually. I was setting the date of his Trials  
in less than six months."

"You? You were setting his Trials? Why you? Wasn't I  
available to do it?" 

Confused look, and Obi-Wan blanched. He opened his mouth, then  
shut it again, finding himself at a loss for words. Averting  
his gaze, he stared at a distant el'giar tree, so light and  
delicate, its entire top swayed within the slight evening  
breeze. 

Such as that tree, so is life, so fragile the slightest wind might  
destroy it, thought Obi-Wan sadly as a hand touched his  
shoulder, and he closed his eyes, unable to speak. 

"Is it because I'm not there in this other future of yours,  
padawan?" asked Qui-Gon so quietly, Obi-Wan had to strain to make out  
the words. "Don't be afraid to tell me, for I'm not afraid to  
hear it." 

Obi-Wan nodded, his mouth bitterly dry. "You're not there, my  
master," he said, falling into his old habit of address. "In  
the future I'm from, you're passed into the Force and I'm alone,  
training Anakin, as you requested."

"I requested that you train him? When ... how did I request  
this?" Qui-Gon asked, his brow furrowing.

Obi-Wan sighed. "When you ... died ... you asked me to promise  
I would train him. It was the last request you made of me, and  
I did my best to honor it. Up until now, I guess."

"I made you _promise_ to train him? On my deathbed?" Qui-Gon  
gasped, horrified. "Are you sure?"

Obi-Wan laughed shortly, a bitter sound devoid of mirth. "I'd  
say I'm pretty sure, Qui-Gon. One does not forget dying  
promises too readily, especially ones made to ... " He stopped,  
then sighed again. "But that's besides the point. I _did_ take  
on the responsibility of training him and as his Master, it's my  
duty to protect him, which I am, at this moment, failing to do."

"Obi-Wan ... what else did I say on that day? Tell me," Qui-Gon  
demanded softly. "I must have said something else, didn't I?"

Slowly, Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, you said nothing else.  
You told me that Anakin was the Chosen One, that he must be  
trained and you begged me to do it. That was all. I mean, you  
didn't exactly have much time and ..."

"But I had enough time to spout all that nonsense." Qui-Gon's  
shoulders sagged as if a heavy weight had been placed upon them.  
"And I said nothing else besides that. Damn it, what in all  
hells was I thinking?"

"I'm sure you were thinking of what you felt had to be done for  
the good of the Order." Obi-Wan replied, subdued. "It ... it  
happened very quickly, trust me."

"No, there must have been enough time for more than that," Qui-  
Gon said sharply, rising and roughly running his hands through  
his hair. "Gods," he swore, using an oath Obi-Wan had never  
heard him use. "Are you sure, Obi-Wan? Are you sure that I  
said _nothing_ else to you?"

Obi-Wan paused, taken aback. "No. Nothing besides what I just  
told you." He sighed. "Master, please. I know this is hard,  
almost impossible to understand or believe, but ... I have to  
get back. As wonderful as this world is, and believe me, being  
here with you alive and well is a far better life than the one I  
lead now, my duty is to my padawan. I have to get back and  
..."

"Better? Why is this world better than what you know?" Qui-Gon  
interrupted, frowning.

Frustrated, Obi-Wan threw his hands into the air with a hopeless  
gesture. "Because life without you isn't exactly the happiest of  
existences." He turned away, the sudden lump in his throat  
nearly choking him. "I miss you terribly, every day, and your  
loss made everything in what was already a hard life that much  
harder. I'll admit to you, it was difficult training Anakin, I  
didn't want to do it, I didn't want to do anything but lie there  
and feel sorry for myself, but I made a sacred promise, Qui-Gon.  
And for me to keep that promise ..."

"And yet, I still said nothing to you," murmured Qui-Gon  
thickly. "What a fool I must be. And never to find out I am  
this fool until a moment after I die, when it is by far too  
late." 

"Please, Qui-Gon," said Obi-Wan, pleading. "I have to try and  
help him. I still feel him, I can 'hear' his voice, asking me  
to help him. I can't ignore it any longer, and I'm at a loss as  
to what I can do. I've heard of these wormholes before, or at  
least rumors of them. I thought they were nonsense, some addled  
spacer's tale, but I know better now. I also know these spacers  
came back to tell these stories, so perhaps there's hope for me  
to get back to the timeline I once knew."

Qui-Gon sighed heavily. "Yes," he said grimly. "I've heard  
these tales myself and took more stock in them than most. But  
I've never investigated them that closely." He slid a narrow  
glance at Obi-Wan. "Of course, I always tried my best to avoid  
falling into black holes," he said drily.

Obi-Wan hung his head. "Well, Anakin insisted we'd be fine, and  
he's such a good pilot that ..."

"Listening to the insistent promises of one's padawan is mistake  
number two hundred and four." Qui-Gon smiled morosely. "One  
which I tried not to make with you more than a dozen or so  
times."

"It's not easy, is it?" Obi-Wan leaned back and rested his head  
against the ivy covered garden wall. "I had no idea how  
difficult training a padawan was, how utterly frustrating and  
infuriating it can be. I often wondered if I gave you half as  
much trouble as my student gives me."

"Honestly, Obi-Wan, it was probably ten times more." Qui-Gon  
smiled. "And the joy returned was ten times greater than that."

Obi-Wan's cheeks burned hotly and he was glad for the cover of  
night to hide what must have been a scarlet countenance. "Thank  
you mas ... Qui-Gon." Shy glance. "In some ways, it's going to  
be very hard going back, and not just in regard to finding the  
means."

"Nonsense," replied Qui-Gon firmly. "You will get back there,  
somehow. Together, we will find a way to reverse this mishap of  
yours."

"Together?" Obi-Wan asked brightly, a great hope filling his  
heart. "You'll come with me?"

Qui-Gon nodded, his expression determined. "As far as I can go,  
that I promise. Come now," he said, smiling weakly. "We still  
have a knighting dinner to finish, and I _did_ have lots more  
stories planned to tell you. Won't you indulge your old master  
at least for a few more hours?"

Obi-Wan rose and nodded. "I think we might argue over who is  
indulging whom, but yes, tonight I want to hear those stories,  
all of them, as many as you can tell me."

"Oh, those are quite a few," Qui-Gon laughed, as together they  
headed back to the dining hall, the future, and its past, on  
hold, if only for one last night.

But what the next would hold, neither could guess.

**VI**.

Obi-Wan slept deeply that night, a welcome dreamless slumber.  
He could have sworn he was asleep for only a few minutes when a  
gentle shake to his shoulder woke him and he opened his eyes,  
peering owlishly through the still-dark room.

"Come on," Qui-Gon whispered. "If we want to borrow one of her  
Highness's ships, we'd better do so before the sun rises."

"Borrow a ship?" asked Obi-Wan groggily, sitting up with a  
groan. He blinked, then rubbed his eyes, suddenly fully awake.  
"Oh, yes ... you're right."

"One of the newer shipment vessels should be good. They have  
enough range to make it to the Nebulas and are sturdy enough to  
withstand most hardships." Qui-Gon went to the door and glanced  
up and down the hallway. "As I thought, everyone is still  
asleep. If we pretend we're going somewhere we're supposed to  
be headed, the guards won't look twice at us."

Obi-Wan quickly retrieved his robe and slung it over his  
shoulders, double-checking the power cell on his lightsaber out  
of long habit. "Ah, feigned innocence. That's an old trick,  
for sure."

Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled. "What other sort of tricks would you  
expect me to know?"

Obi-Wan bit back a laugh and followed Qui-Gon down the hallway,  
both of their faces a study in casual serenity. How strange and  
wonderful it felt to be walking at his former master's side  
again, their steps tapping down the polished palace floors in  
perfect tandem, just as they always had. Obi-Wan never had to  
run to keep up, nor slow down and wait, they were in sync,  
mentally and physically, almost since the first day they met,  
despite their differences.   
  
Besides, their differences were the main source of their  
strength, or so Qui-Gon had always claimed. They complemented  
each other, one filling the gaps in the other one's talent and  
style flawlessly. They could move as one, or move apart,  
leaving no space unattended, no road unexplored. 

Obi-Wan had missed this, this completeness, almost as much as  
the friendship and care of the man next to him. And ah, to  
regain it, only to lose it again forever ... could any fate be  
quite as cruel? 

They entered the main palace hangar and Qui-Gon nodded politely  
at a sleepy looking guard who snapped to attention. "Good  
morning, sirs. Up early this day, aren't we?"

"Yes." Qui-Gon nodded and raised his hand in front of the  
guard's eyes. "We're going to borrow one of her Majesty's  
ships. There's no need for you to remember we did this."

The guard blinked, then slowly nodded. "There's no need for me  
to remember that you borrowed a ship."

"You do your job well," Qui-Gon added as Obi-Wan hit the ramp  
controls for a mid-sized freighter. "Have a good trip."

"I do my job well," the guard agreed cheerfully, as the ramp  
lowered and the Jedi boarded. "Have a good trip."

Obi-Wan settled in behind the controls and the ship's engines  
hummed to life. "Did we really need the happy send-off?" he  
asked sardonically.

Qui-Gon favored him with a wicked grin. "We need all the luck  
we can get."

The hangar's exit filled the viewscreen, followed by the rising  
sun. The sky was a clear shade of pink, with a hint of the blue  
to follow as the palace fell away and soon, the darkness of  
space enveloped the ship. 

With a short sigh, Obi-Wan set a course for Nebulas Five. His  
fingers hesitated over the final entry, mutinous thoughts  
already crossing through his mind. It might be way too late;  
there were no guarantees that even by returning to the wormhole  
he'd save Anakin. What good would it do anyone then,  
sacrificing this existence for another unknown, even less  
attractive one? Perhaps this is what Fate demanded of him,  
maybe it was reversing itself for a reason and fighting against  
would be pointless, or worse, wrong.

Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon's eyes on him, and knew he could hear  
his thoughts. "Is it so wrong, my master?" he whispered. "Is  
it so wrong to want to stay in world where almost everything is  
going right?"

"The key word is _almost_, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon grasped the tight  
shoulders and kneaded them gently. "But the choice is yours.  
I know you'll make the right one."

Obi-Wan stared at the controls for another second, then hit the  
last number with a sharp tap. Slowly, the stars surrounding  
them turned into long streaks of light and the ship shot its way  
into hyperspace, the Nebulas Five system its final destination. 

The hands on his shoulders tightened imperceptibly and Obi-Wan  
fought the urge to bury his head in his arms. It was done, done  
and finished, and he had to accept the outcome. 

"It's not that far from here," Obi-Wan muttered dully. "Less  
than two hours, I'd say."

Qui-Gon slid into the navigator's seat. "Good. We'll have time  
to do a little reading. I tapped into the Temple's main library  
from Naboo's information center." He pulled a datadisc from his  
robe and popped it into the ship's main terminal. "There wasn't  
too much, but more than I could digest last night. Ah, here we  
are ... "Nebulas Five and Warp Bend Encounters: Time Travel or  
Tall Tales?" He grimaced. "Why do I have a feeling this won't  
be the definitive scientific study on this phenomenon?"

"Maybe because I haven't written it yet?" Obi-Wan glanced at  
the data screen, watching the three-dimensional star maps form.  
He pointed at one of the smaller models. "There, we were in  
that sector, that much I remember clearly."

"Wonderful. We'll concentrate on that area then." The map grew  
in size until it covered the entire screen. "There," Qui-Gon  
said, pointing at a likely spot. "Do you see the gravitational  
pulls in this area that end here? This could be it."

"Or one anomaly of a thousand. Or maybe nothing at all," Obi-  
Wan sighed. "I have a bad feeling about this, master."

Qui-Gon smiled broadly at him. "So you always say, my friend.  
Let's have a little faith, shall we?"

"Certainly," said Obi-Wan morosely, turning back to the  
viewscreen and watching the stars fly by. "I will have as much  
faith as this particular situation allows."

Qui-Gon peered at him, obviously concerned, but Obi-Wan  
continued to watch the sky fall away, its dark covering a  
seeming omen for what lie ahead.

What other choice did he have?

**VII**.

A familiar patch of space filled the view screen, giving Obi-Wan  
a strong sense of deja vu. Strange, but he'd actually forgotten  
the original reason he and Anakin had come to that part of space  
and why he'd allowed his padawan to take the shortcut through  
the uncharted regions of the system, even after being cautioned  
by the Temple's navigators on its hidden dangers. 

Obi-Wan tried hard to remember the exact coordinates he'd looked  
at right before they were swallowed by the wormhole, but the  
numbers melded hazily into one another, sixes turning into  
nines, threes turning into sevens, and so on. 

So much for Force enhanced memory, he thought wryly, as the ship  
drifted aimlessly through what in galactic terms was an  
infinitesimal patch of space, but in reality was an area  
millions of meters square. 

They could search this pocket for the rest of their lives and  
not find anything, just as one might search for a silver nartac  
in a mountain-sized pile of grain. 

"You must let the Force guide you, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon cautioned.  
"You're thinking too hard."

"I know," he sighed. Obediently, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and  
cleared his mind. Slowly, the coordinates appeared, still hazy,  
but he held his fingers over the keypad and waited. One tap,  
followed by another, then another and the ship began to steer  
itself port side, then forward a few thousand more meters. 

"I think ..." said Obi-Wan, his eyes still shut. "Yes ... we  
are getting ..."

He was interrupted by a loud _crack_ followed by the frantic  
beeping and flashing of warning lights all throughout the ship's  
cabin. The entire vessel rolled wildly and both Jedi held onto  
their seats so as not to be thrown to the metal deck.

Calmly, Qui-Gon looked at the instrument panel. "Back shields  
are under attack and failing."

"We've been hit. A laser cannon, it seems." Obi-Wan sounded  
more befuddled than frightened, even when another hit was  
registered, this one bouncing harmlessly off the stern shields. 

Suddenly, their view screen crackled with static and the calm  
view of deep space was replaced with the visage of a very large,  
very unattractive creature -- a Kelsiant T'welek, over seven  
feet tall and at least a meter wide. 

"Surrender, scum," the Kelsiant demanded loudly, his jowls  
dripping with an unsavory looking smear of purple goo. "You  
have violated the territory of the Nebulas Sharhawk. You will  
immediately give up your arms and your goods. If you refuse to  
comply with these orders, you shall be destroyed at once."

"Give up our arms and goods? What in the ... " grumbled Obi-  
Wan.

"Pirates," breathed Qui-Gon thoughtfully. "We've met a nice  
parcel of pirates."

"Pirates? Why of all the impertinent ..." Obi-Wan growled.  
"Computer! Shields forward, begin power sequence on laser  
cannons."

Qui-Gon laid a hand on his arm. "No, no, Obi-Wan. Wait. I  
think we should give our 'friends' here a warmer welcome than  
that."

"A warmer welcome?" asked Obi-Wan, aghast. "Shall I remove the  
shields all together then? Retract the lasers and put up a  
little sign inviting them aboard for tea?"

"Not a bad idea, but let's save the tea." Qui-Gon flipped on  
the comlink, but kept his side of the screen dark as he  
addressed the pirates. "Please it your honors, we are just  
simple merchants, lost in this system. Come aboard if you must  
and take what you want, but spare our lives, we beg of you."

"Have you lost your ... umph!" Obi-Wan glared at Qui-Gon over  
the large hand muffling his indignant cry.

"Wise idea, merchants," replied the Kelsiant with a cackle.  
"Prepare to be boarded."

"Thank you, kind sirs," said Qui-Gon, sounding  
uncharacteristically fearful. He flipped off the comlink and  
turned to Obi-Wan with a bright smile. "I think we're about to  
have company. Let's get ready for them shall we?"

"Of course," Obi-Wan scowled. "Why ever not? I love a nice  
little fracas with pirates before I make my wormhole swim. What  
could be more enjoyable?"

Qui-Gon laughed. "You've not only gotten older in spirit, but  
crotchety as well. I like that ... it confirms all my  
expectations."

"Good, I'm very glad to hear it." Obi-Wan rose and removed his  
lightsaber from his belt. A brilliant shaft of blue light  
filled the cabin as he took a defensive position and glanced at  
Qui-Gon with a frown. "And, may I say master mine, you haven't  
changed a bit. You're as confusing and infuriating as ever."

"Good," replied Qui-Gon with a grin. "I always hate to  
disappoint."

There was no time for Obi-Wan to reply as a loud hiss was heard  
from the back cabins. He took a defensive stance, standing  
beside Qui-Gon, whose saber was already lit and ready.  
Footsteps thumped forward and together, the once and future  
master and padawan waited for the dance to begin.

**VIII**.

Footsteps approached the main cabin and Obi-Wan's fingers  
tightened around his 'saber. 

Two beings were entering, one large with long footfalls, the  
other light and short, the tapping steps of the latter pattering  
in-between the heavy lumbering sound of the former. Obi-Wan  
shifted his stance slightly, so as to compensate for the height  
differential of their opponents and waited patiently, his nerves  
thrumming with anticipation. 

Glancing at Qui-Gon, he was struck as always by the Jedi  
master's calm demeanor in the face of the unknown. Never cowed  
by odds, he faced every situation with the serene attention it  
deserved, never descending into panic or fear. Even when faced  
by the Sith on Naboo ...

The horrifying memory returned to Obi-Wan, unbidden. Fear  
hadn't been Qui-Gon's downfall at the hands of the dark  
creature, it was exhaustion, the all too human failing of his  
flesh and limbs, not of his indomitable will, nor his soaring  
spirit. He'd faced the Sith alone, protecting his padawan,  
hoping to destroy him before the laser cycles turned and Obi-Wan  
rejoined the fray.

Qui-Gon hadn't counted on the sheer strength of the creature's  
hatred, hadn't counted on how much he'd needed his padawan ...  
his other half. He'd been fighting with one arm tied behind his  
back and hadn't known it, not until it was too late.

Not until he lay dying in Obi-Wan's trembling arms, his last  
breaths torn from his lungs through the smokey, battle-singed  
air. 

Sweat beaded on Obi-Wan's forehead, but he ignored it and kept  
his focus on the approaching pirates. He pushed away the  
terrible memories of Naboo and the emotions they inspired back  
into the part of his mind he could shut off and ignore, at least  
for the moment, lest they'd lose this battle as well. 

"Surrender, scum!" The Kelsiant shouted, tapping on the walls  
as he lumbered toward them, no doubt checking for a surprise  
attack. "Make yourselves known!"

Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan, then nodded at the door. "We're  
over here," he called out, his voice so filled with fake fear,  
Obi-Wan almost laughed at the sound.

The door to the front cabin burst open and Obi-Wan sprung into a  
forward flip, sensing the forthcoming laser blast a full second  
before it was fired. It deflected harmlessly off of his 'saber,  
and he drew a slow arc toward the pirate's arms with the  
brilliant blade, aiming not to kill, simply to disarm. 

The tactic worked and the pirate's laser rifle clattered to the  
floor in two halves. His partner, a tiny rodent-like M'dirsa,  
squeaked loudly and hit the floor, shaking with terror. 

The Kelsiant gaped, then howled with pain when Obi-Wan's elbow  
cracked against his jaw, stunning him to the floor, where he  
tumbled down next to his companion.

"Don't kill us," the M'dirsa howled. "Please, your honors ...."

The Kelsiant wailed like a baby as huge purple tears dripped  
onto the ship's deck. "Don't kill us! Don't kill us!  
Pleaaaaassee ...."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, then deactivated his 'saber with a  
long-suffering sigh. "Oh, _do_ stop blubbering," he ordered  
irritably. "What kind of pirate are you, crying like an  
overgrown Telik sprout?"

"The kind of pirate who doesn't expect much resistance from his  
victims." Qui-Gon deactivated his 'saber, then stood over the  
Kelsiant, his expression grim. "Isn't that so?"

The Kelsiant gulped, then nodded. "Your gracious honors are  
right. If you'd told us you were Jedi ..."

"You wouldn't have dared coming aboard, I'm sure," Qui-Gon  
finished for him, grinning wryly. "However, we _wanted_ you to  
come aboard."

"We did?" Obi-Wan asked, arching an eyebrow at his mentor.

Qui-Gon nodded. "For it struck us as very odd there should be  
pirates in a system this far removed from any known lanes of  
traffic. In fact, few if any ships go through here, so close to  
the Nebulas. It's far too dangerous for the casual traveler, so  
why would any pirate worth their ship bother with the place?"  
He narrowed his eyes at the fallen pair, who began quiver with  
terror. "Unless you know something that we don't. Care to  
reveal this mystery to us?"

"Please it, your honors. Don't make us reveal The Source," the  
M'dirsa squeaked fearfully. "Kronos will _kill_ us! He'll rip  
our heads off and feed them to the space slugs!"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "He won't kill you. Not if we kill you  
first." He stared at both pirates meaningfully. "What you call  
'The Source' ... it's a wormhole isn't it? A hole where ships  
tumble out of on regular basis, their occupants disoriented and  
easily overcome by a small contingent of creatures as  
yourselves, as weak and sorry-looking as you are. And you know  
where this hole is located, don't you?"

Obi-Wan gaped at Qui-Gon, astounded. Of course, that was what  
Qui-Gon was after, and how blind he'd been not to see it  
himself. His respect for his former master increased tenfold,  
and again, the terrible memory of Qui-Gon's death made him ache. 

All that knowledge and wisdom gone forever, such a horrible and  
unfathomable loss.

The pirates' wailing began again and the Kelsiant hid his  
bloated head under his long, gangly arms. "Pleeeasse ..."

"Give us the coordinates to the wormhole, the _exact_  
coordinates and we'll let you go, no harm done." Qui-Gon folded  
his arms across his broad chest. "Or ... we can start the space  
slug feeding now and save this Kronos fellow of yours the  
trouble of doing it himself."

The M'dirsa sniffled, then relented. "Two-oh-twelve-sixteen-  
eight stern. Then five port. You'll want to stay a few hundred  
meters to the right or else you'll go into it, like we almost  
did a few times. It's nearly impossible to see, but once you're  
close enough, you'll notice the escaping light around its  
edges."

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan and smiled. "Got that?"

"Got it," he replied. "But what to do with our 'friends' here?"

"Up," Qui-Gon ordered the captives, his voice strong with the  
Force. The pirates shakily obeyed, their eyes still blurry with  
tears. "You'll forget everything you've seen here," he said,  
waving his hand before them. "You'll return to your ship and  
tell your mates that it was abandoned. Go, and don't return to  
this area again."

The pirates blinked, then nodded dully. "This ship's abandoned.  
We'll go elsewhere," they muttered in unison.

Qui-Gon steered them both toward the back hatch and watched them  
stumble toward their short range shuttlepod with was anchored to  
the escape hatch. With a sigh, he shut the blast door behind  
them and turned to Obi-Wan. "I've met some weak-minded  
creatures in my day, but those two ..." 

He shook his head, bemused. "Now, let's set those coordinates  
and put the ship on drift. We don't want to crash into the  
edges of this thing. We'll set a neat course for the middle if  
we can and enter it slowly."

"We?" Obi-Wan asked hoarsely, the fears and memories of his past  
life returning with a vengeance. "Qui-Gon, you know if we go  
through with this, you most likely won't ..."

Qui-Gon put a hand on his former student's shoulder and squeezed  
gently. "It's all right, Obi-Wan. Trust me ... I _think_ I  
know what I'm doing."

Obi-Wan sat heavily in the captain's chair, his heart filled  
with misgivings. "I trust you, Qui-Gon, I trust everything you  
do and say." He sighed. "I'd forgotten how much I could learn  
from you, even in a few moments. It's humbling to say the least  
... discovering at this stage in my life how little I really  
know."

"You've grown much, padawan," replied Qui-Gon softly, using Obi-  
Wan's old title as an endearment. "And I'm sure that in this  
other universe of yours, you're a fine teacher and that Anakin  
has grown and thrived under your tutelage, as much, or even more  
so than he would have under mine."

"No," replied Obi-Wan looking away, ashamed of the emotions that  
tore at him. "He's done passably well under me, I suppose, but  
with you ... he should have been taught by you. There are so  
many things he's missing, so many things I'm missing ... the  
loss ..." He stared out the viewscreen at the huge dying star  
that burnt brightly in the distance. "Even after all these  
years, the loss of your knowledge ... of _you_ Qui-Gon ... is  
almost too great to bear. Anakin feels it a little, I know,  
while I, the one who knows what is lost ..." His voice trailed  
away, the words, the terrible truth, refusing to make itself  
known.

"Set the course for the wormhole, my friend," said Qui-Gon  
rustily, as he took the navigator's chair next to Obi-Wan. "Set  
our speed for drift and we'll talk."

The navigation pad felt cold beneath Obi-Wan's fingers as he  
tapped in the coordinates, his heart heavier than he could ever  
remember it being. He set the ship's speed and a green warning  
light immediately flared to life, telling him he had three  
minutes left before reaching the mouth of the wormhole. 

Three minutes left of the life that should have been, but  
couldn't be.

Three minutes left before the happiness that had been the past  
two days was gone, gone forever.

The ship drifted slowly toward the gaping wormhole and Qui-Gon  
faced Obi-Wan, his expression a strange mixture of sadness  
and quiet care.

"Obi-Wan," said Qui-Gon, with soft urgency. "Please, listen to  
me. I don't know what happened the last time we parted and I don't  
want to know, because it doesn't matter anymore. What matters is  
that I do it right this time and leave you with more than just the  
memory of an old man's hubris."

Obi-Wan shook his head, barely able to see through his tears.  
His heart thudded dully as he felt himself suddenly enveloped  
in arms that were as strong as he'd always remembered them  
being. Arms that held him with tenderness when he was hurt,  
with strength when he was sick or frightened, even sometimes  
with just the simple joy of being alive and together. 

Arms he'd missed, even as a man full grown, in a warm, welcome  
embrace, one he knew he'd never feel again.

Qui-Gon spoke quietly and Obi-Wan had to strain to make out his  
words over the ship's noisy warning signals. Three minutes the  
warnings said -- three minutes left to spend with the only  
parent he'd ever known, the best friend he'd ever have.

The only teacher he could ever trust.

Qui-Gon's deep voice washed over him, soothing and kind. "When  
I took you as my student, I was hesitant and afraid, not because  
of anything you did, but because I'd failed so miserably in many  
of my goals, the teaching fellow Jedi not the least of them. The  
day I met you, I knew you were destined for greatness and deep  
in my heart of hearts, I didn't want to have you as my padawan,  
mainly because I didn't believe myself worthy of taking on the  
challenge, and the honor, of training you." 

He sighed and tightened his embrace. "I wasn't a good master to  
you at first .... shhh, shhh, don't say anything, just listen.  
At first, no I wasn't. However, with time, and with the Force's  
help, I improved, just as you improved as a student beside me.  
We learned together, from each other, my Obi-Wan and much of what  
I know you've taught to me, not the other way around."

The warnings began to beep louder, the green lights changing to  
a bright blue, telling Obi-Wan that time, the great destroyer,  
was winding down, seeking out its prey. He began to cry in  
earnest, unashamed, the cloth of his master's tunic scratching  
his cheek and Qui-Gon's calm steady voice still whispering in  
his ear as the ship's signals grew louder. 

Two minutes left. 

Two minutes left to listen, and the terrible ache in Obi-Wan's  
heart returned, just as it had been on Naboo where he knelt,  
holding his dying master close, listening to his last words,  
just as he listened now, knowing that he'd never hear Qui-Gon's  
voice again. 

It was like dying, but a soul's death, one that should have  
never been relived.

//It's no late, Obi-Wan ... it's too late.//

//No...//

"Shhh, please listen, Obi-Wan. During our time together,  
we've gotten into many scrapes, and occasionally we argue and  
jest about who saved whom more times. I'd say it was an even  
tie in the end, except for one very important difference. You,  
with your wisdom and grace, saved me from an enemy no one else  
ever could have." A whisper against his cheek. "You saved me  
from myself, dearest friend. After all my failures I'd given  
up on life and happiness, but you, stubborn creature that you  
are, you insisted on returning that life to me, and with you,  
there was beauty and laughter again where there once was nothing  
but sorrow." 

The overhead warnings went off, signaling a failure in the  
ship's main power source.

One minute left. One minute left to listen to the soft voice  
in his ear slowly fade, as the lights around them dimmed. 

"For this I thank you. Thank you so much, and for all I've  
taught you, remember, you have taught me twice as well." A  
gentle kiss against Obi-Wan's temple and the lights failed  
completely, enshrouding them in darkness. "Remember that I love  
you and my pride in you knows no bounds. Remember this, and  
forget everything else. Because my love for you is all that  
matters, nothing else."

//Too late, my padawan, it's too late//

// ... no....//

The wormhole opened to accept the vessel and the cruel spinning  
began again, but this time Obi-Wan didn't fight against it. The  
blindness, the dark chill, he welcomed them both, for as  
terrible as they were, it was still better than the pain that  
was ripping his soul into bits, one tiny piece at a time. 

The arms holding him disappeared and Obi-Wan reached for them  
with one last desperate, anguished grasp, but he clutched at air  
and the dizzying rush was suddenly silenced, replaced by the  
sound of a familiar voice.

"Obi-Wan?"

He slowly opened his eyes, his teeth chattering with cold.  
Blinked, then forced himself to focus on the person who stood  
over him, bright blue eyes dark with concern. 

It was Anakin, alive and well, exactly as he'd left him.  
Exactly as he remembered.

Exactly as he'd feared.

"Are you all right?" Anakin touched Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I  
think we've escaped the wormhole." He glanced nervously around  
the cabin and bit his lower lip in obvious consternation. "The  
ship appears stable, but we shouldn't take any chances. I'd  
like to set a course back for Coruscant, if I may. Can you stand  
up?"

Obi-Wan nodded, his throat tight with relief ... and lingering  
grief. "Yes, I think I can." Slowly, he wobbled to his feet,  
bracing himself against the controls of their ship, no longer  
the Naboo merchant freighter, but the same short range ship he  
and Anakin had started out with on their ill-fated trip from  
Coruscant.

It worked, he thought hazily, forcing himself upright. I'm back  
where I started and Anakin is alive and well. We are heading  
home and everything is back in its correct order, and we are  
safe and sound, all of us ... 

Except for one. 

He shut his eyes tightly as the misery welled up again, as sharp  
and painful as it had been on Naboo all those years before. "I  
... I think I need to rest," he murmured shakily as he made his  
way toward the cabin's exit.

"Of course." Concerned, and Anakin tried to guide him toward  
the back cabins where the bunks were. "We have a couple of  
hours of travel, you can lay down until we reach the Temple.  
Here, let me help you."

Obi-Wan gently pushed aside Anakin's helping hand. "No, I can  
do it. Go, take the helm and I'll see you when we arrive."

"All right," replied Anakin, abashed. "I'll wake you up then."

Obi-Wan didn't reply, instead he made his way blindly to the  
rest area and tumbled down onto the first bunk within reach,  
face first, burying himself against its thin, hard pillow. 

He wept then, the harsh sobs of a full grown man, muffled only  
slightly by the bedding. Wept and remembered, both sets of his  
master's last words, doubly heartbreaking, their comfort  
cold in the face of Qui-Gon's snuffed out life ... the lost   
comfort of his wisdom and care, twice gained, twice gone. 

//My love for you is all that matters ... nothing else.//

// ... no ...//

And so the voices echoed through Obi-Wan's mind, even as the  
stars flew by, speeding him and Anakin on their way back to  
Coruscant, where the cold emptiness that had been his former  
life awaited him. 

Just as before.

**IX**.

The lights of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant shone in the near  
distance and Obi-Wan looked down at the navigation controls,  
avoiding his padawan's worried gaze. He wondered if Anakin had  
overheard his sorrow and wondered how he could possibly explain  
the events that had transpired over the last few "days."

Or even if he should.

What could he tell his student? Would he talk of sacrifice or  
would he speak of joy in seeing Anakin's bright eyes again? He  
could tell him tales of loss, and of happy reunions, but which  
one would he say he'd taken the most pleasure in? 

Or dare he explain at all?

Anakin brought the ship into the docking bay and paged the  
technicians over his comlink. "Force Shield Four, landing  
sequence ended. Thank you, gentlemen."

"Welcome home, Force Shield Four. You may disembark on deck  
twelve."

"We're home." Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan, politely ignoring  
his master's pitiful countenance. "Shall we get off this tub  
and head back to quarters?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan replied wanly. "I think we could both use some  
rest and home brewed tea. Agreed?"

"Agreed," replied Anakin happily. 

Together, they left the ship and the Temple's lift soon sped  
them up to the living quarters.

"What a trip that was," Anakin said as the floors sped by. "And  
what strange dreams I had, like none I've ever remembered. I  
was older, standing over a pyre burning the remains of some dark  
looking mechanical creature. It was frightening, but I then  
looked out and saw myself, or someone who looked like me, and he  
was smiling peacefully. I knew then everything was all right,  
and I no longer feared the void that followed. It was rather  
soothing, as a matter of fact. Soothing, but odd."

The lift came to a stop and the doors slid open. Obi-Wan  
ushered his padawan out and they walked slowly toward their  
quarters, side by side. "Yes. It was an odd experience," he  
sighed. "But an educational one, I'll say that much for it." 

Anakin nodded in agreement as he pressed in the lock-code to  
their door. "I'm so glad you're all right. Force, I can just  
imagine if something had happened to you out there. My master  
would have my head."

Obi-Wan glanced at him, confused. "Your master? Padawan, are  
_you_ all right? I'm ..."

The door slid open, cutting him off. Obi-Wan glanced around  
their quarters and immediately noticed that the rooms were  
slightly changed. Not enough to make a huge difference, but  
enough to give him a strange sense of displacement, the feeling  
that things were just the slightest bit 'off.'

The sofa faced the window instead of the door, the wall shelves  
were littered with papers and keepsakes, not looking anything  
like the spare, uncluttered space Obi-Wan preferred. The  
kitchen seemed backwards, the appliances turned the wrong way  
and the bedrooms, they were reversed as well. 

Surprised, he looked at his padawan for an answer, but Anakin  
was no longer looking at him, instead he gazed straight ahead at  
a robed man who, for some reason, was standing in the middle of  
their quarters.

"Master." Anakin bowed deeply and suddenly, Obi-Wan felt the  
world around him tilt wildly as he gaped at the tall Jedi who  
bowed in return.

It couldn't be ... but it was. His late master Qui-Gon Jinn was  
standing before him, instantly recognizable but looking much the  
younger man, his once silver-threaded hair now pure brown and  
hanging down his back in thick waves. The lines around his  
mouth and forehead were gone and he looked as healthy and alive  
as a helix in storm, his dark blue eyes sharp with youthful  
energy. 

It was an ... amazing, and unbelievable, sight.

"Good to see you, padawan," replied Qui-Gon casually to Anakin,  
his eyes never leaving Obi-Wan's. "I trust you had an  
uneventful trip?"

Anakin flushed and stared at the floor. "Um, not exactly,  
Master. We, uh, hit a slight snag along the way. But we're  
fine now," he said hopefully. "Really, no harm done."

"That's good to hear," replied Qui-Gon. "Anakin, would you mind  
leaving myself and Master Obi-Wan alone for a few moments? We  
have some business to discuss."

If Anakin was upset by this, he didn't show it. "Certainly," he  
replied quickly, looking relieved rather than otherwise. "I'll  
go to the dining hall and get us all some dinner. I know I"m  
starving." 

"That's an excellent idea. Thank you." The door slid shut  
behind Anakin and Qui-Gon smiled at Obi-Wan who gaped at him,  
speechless. "I told you to trust me, didn't I?" he asked  
quietly.

"I ... I don't understand," Obi-Wan gasped breathlessly. "How  
..."

"Let's just say that's a very interesting wormhole you found."  
Qui-Gon paused. "Correcting the past isn't easy, but it can be  
done, I think. It took a few tries, but this might be the  
timeline that works best."

"Is this a dream?" Obi-Wan murmured, hoarse with shock. "It  
must be. This must all be a dream."

"No, not unless life is one. Which it may well be, but  
philosophy was never my strong point." Qui-Gon glanced at him  
earnestly. "Are you all right, Obi-Wan? Tell me honestly, for  
I the last thing I wished for was to do harm, to either you or  
Anakin. I just thought ..."

"You thought right," Obi-Wan replied quickly, as a second later  
he was across the room, embracing his former master for all he  
was worth. 

It was better than Solstice on Behama or Winter's Joy on  
Kossuth. It was every wonderful holiday rolled into one and  
Obi-Wan shut his eyes against the joy that threatened to devour  
him whole. He didn't care how it had happened, it just was, and  
for once in his life he was going to accept happiness, at least  
this happiness, as his rightful due.

"I can't believe it," he murmured against Qui-Gon's tunic,  
smiling senselessly. "But, then again, I can. This is  
wonderful ... and I don't know how you did it, but hardly  
anything has changed at all." He looked up at his master with a  
huge grin. "Except that you've gotten to train Anakin."

"Well, and one more thing is different as well." Qui-Gon bit  
his lower lip. "I'm afraid we ended up with an extra padawan."

"An extra padawan?" asked Obi-Wan, confused.

"Yes, you have a padawan as well. I ... I felt it best,  
considering the circumstances." Qui-Gon shrugged helplessly.  
"As I said, it's a very interesting place that wormhole. The  
paradoxes get quite muddling after a time and this extra young  
man was a rather inevitable side effect of this entire journey,  
I fear. If I wish to be here with you then I'm afraid we've  
ended up with another ... well, another Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan blanched. "Another ... what? Another _me_?" 

Qui-Gon sighed and turned toward the back rooms. "Tereth!" he  
called out. "Tereth, Obi-Wan is here. Come and greet him,  
child."

A very familiar looking boy of nine or ten padded out from the  
back quarters, sleepily knuckling his eyes. "Master?" The child  
bowed clumsily, his unkempt hair and ruddy face betraying a  
padawan who had just woken up from a stolen nap. "Did you call  
me?"

"Yes, Tereth," replied Qui-Gon gently. "Obi-Wan is back and I  
thought you'd like to say hello to him."

Obi-Wan stared at the younger version of himself. "Oh, Force,"  
he breathed. 

Qui-Gon chuckled. "It's a bit of a dream come true for me," he  
said, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately. "I always wished  
that one day you'd get a padawan exactly like yourself."

The boy beamed at Qui-Gon, then looked at Obi-Wan with huge  
eyes. "Master?" he repeated shyly. "Can I do anything for  
you?"

"No," Obi-Wan said softly, as he ran a tentative finger down the  
boy's warm cheek. Had he really been so young once? "Anakin  
went to get us tea and dinner, so you should get ready for  
supper, that's all." He cleared his throat and tried to sound  
authoritative. "Now wash your hands and face then hurry back,  
appetite at the ready."

"Yes, Master," replied the boy happily as he scooted off to the  
'fresher. 

Obi-Wan stared after the child for a long moment,. Stunned, he  
slowly sank onto the sofa and rubbed his temples. "So I've got  
another padawan now, namely myself."

"Albeit with different memories and life experiences, but yes,  
he's the same." Qui-Gon gathered his cloak up before lowering  
himself beside Obi-Wan. "I hope it's all right. I mean, I ..."

"No," Obi-Wan shook his head and glanced at a suddenly worried-  
looking Qui-Gon. "It's more than all right. It's perfectly  
wonderful, even if I'm stuck with a padawan who probably knows  
all my foibles already." He grinned widely, so happy he thought  
that there could be no luckier creature in the universe than he.  
"And do you know why this is still wonderful, Qui-Gon?"

His former master blinked, then slowly shook his head. "No,  
why?" he whispered.

"Because when I am where you are, I'm home," replied Obi-Wan  
sincerely. "And now, after all these years lost and adrift, I  
am finally home."

Qui-Gon smiled brilliantly. "Then may I be the first to say:  
welcome home, my dear friend, welcome home."

~~~~~  
THE END

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story as  
much as I enjoyed writing it. All comments are gratefully  
devoured at **[jedikkate@yahoo.com][1]**

AUTHOR'S NOTES AND THANKS!: Thanks to Zoot, Melissa and the  
readers of swff, SWChicks, PMFanfic and JA fanfic for their  
kind encourgement and response. Thanks!

   [1]: mailto:jedikkate@yahoo.com



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